


Hugs Always Win

by Fiobri



Series: Eternal Cycle [4]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Chaos, Confusion, Crack, Dark Lord, Girl - Freeform, Ridiculous, Stopping A War, Strange Legends, Vacation, eagle - Freeform, more confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 08:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiobri/pseuds/Fiobri
Summary: It was the battle against the Dark Lord Morgoth and his lieutenant Sauron. There would only be war. Unfortunately (or fortunately) someone didn't get the memo. Result: Many dropped jaws and a dead Dark Lord.Cycle 146 279. Can Cycle, Lord of the Rings.





	Hugs Always Win

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. If you're new to the series, check out either the first story or terminology so you understand a bit of what's going on. 
> 
> Terminology:  
> Cyclist: A person who repeatedly gets born into different worlds.  
> Cycle: One life for a Cyclist.  
> Can Cycle: Cycle with canon story and next to no changes. It doesn't matter what time it starts.  
> Trick Cycle: Cycle with story differences, small or big. They have to be noticeable.  
> Mix Cycle: Cycle with two or more stories somehow combined. Crossover.  
> Trace: The first Cyclist. A girl, most of the time.  
> Rina: Trace's other-self/inner-self/first-self.  
> Drew: Trace's sibling/brother.  
> Frisk: Trace's sibling. Gender neutral.

**CYCLE 146 279:**

**Can Cycle, Lord of the Rings.**

 

“SAAAUROOON~!!!” 

 

Almost every eye on the battlefield turned towards the call.  _ That _ wasn’t how you addressed an enemy,  _ especially _ this enemy, and  _ everyone _ knew it. Except, apparently, Milore from the House of Dran. The dainty seventeen-year-old girl danced through battles with enviable grace, all the while grinning happily and waving.  _ Somehow _ no one was able, or just didn’t think, to stop her. 

 

That was the second big ‘WHAT’ of the day. The third came right after. 

 

Everyone against the Dark Lord Morgoth’s chief lieutenant watched in horror as he turned slowly, taking in a rattling breath and… sighing? 

 

“Milore,  _ really? _ ”, he asked, voice echoing in the silent battlefield that wasn’t that much a battlefield anymore. All the fighting had stopped to watch this… this… what even…?

 

“He  _ knows _ her…?”, someone whispered in shock. 

 

...WHAT!? 

 

Milore  _ giggled _ , jumped over two orcs, and launched herself at the demonic warrior. She tackled him with a- 

 

… _ WHAT!?!?  _

 

She tackled him with a  _ hug _ . A  H. U. G!!! And Sauron  _ caught _ her!? 

 

“Yes really!”, she told the  _ armored enemy she was hugging and he  _ HUGGED BACK, “Best way to stop the war” 

 

Their enemy’s number two sighed again, “Couldn’t you have returned my memories  _ before _ the war even started?” 

 

That’s it. No one understood what was happening in front of their eyes. Absolutely  _ no one _ understood. And why weren’t the orcs attacking? Or the Dark forces? 

 

Scratch that, why weren’t  _ they _ attacking? Still, no one moved as they watched the strangest and  _ impossible _ interaction of an innocent little village girl and a  _ powerful war lieutenant not even on her side _ . Milore shook her head. 

 

“Nu-uh. No can do. My memories returned only half an hour ago”, sadness tinged her voice. 

 

“Oh…”, sadness tinged  _ Sauron’s _ voice. 

 

If they didn’t know better they’d have thought it was for the fallen people but that just wouldn’t happen. Completely impossible! 

 

Sauron continued, “Shouldn’t we stop the Orcs and the Dark Lord?” 

 

Milore nodded once. Aaand just as they thought nothing would surprise them anymore the Dark Lord’s lieutenant slung the girl to his back piggy-back-style and clapped. It echoed  _ everywhere _ . And sent a wave of energy that just  _ knocked out every single Orc on the battlefield _ . 

 

Someone fainted in shock. Nobody paid much attention amongst the panic and confusion. 

 

Milore watched all the chaos unfold with a mischievous glint in her eye. Sauron painstakingly took his helmet off and threw it to the side, uncovering a surprisingly handsome face. He grimaced as he tugged a chain off his neck and stared critically at a ring with red-hot glowing writing. 

 

“Destroying this, then my ‘Master’, then vacation?”, he asked the girl on his back. 

 

Said girl hummed in agreement but corrected a moment later: 

 

“Destroy, find Frisk,  _ then _ vacation” 

 

Sauron nodded. The two vanished, leaving behind an unconscious army, dead orcs, murdered Dark Lord, and a helmet thrown to the side. 

 

And pure chaos. Lots of pure chaos. 

 

(Especially in one household after Milore’s grandmother found a letter saying said girl needed to stop a war and have a long vacation after. It was passed down many generations after her and everyone in the House of Dran learned how a little slip of a girl stopped a war)

 

xXXx

 

Sauron, or Drew, sat on their beach island they’d created just for relaxation and whistled absentmindedly. His hand was lazily brushing through an eagle’s feathers. The eagle was Frisk this Cycle. Milore, or Trace, was surfing and laughing as the two watched. 

 

Middle-Earth never found them. The story of the battle against Sauron and Morgoth passed down generations and became a Legend. 

 

A Legend that was true but so ridiculous that no one believed it. 


End file.
